Mr Weasley and the Retractable Sharpie
by muffin Lady 0o
Summary: So we all know of Mr. Weasley's facination with muggle artifacts, right? And we all know how fun Sharpies can be, don't we? ... I don't think that we should leave the two together in one room. Especially after this...


-1**A/N: Friend and I came up with this while having a conversation on what was taught in Muggle Studies class. It was originally a clicky pen, then we decided a retractable sharpie was better, as you'll soon see. **

**Sadly, I don't own anything, HP characters or Sharpies. Instead, I got socks and underwear for Christmas. Boo.**

It was a average summer morning in the Weasley household.

_Click. Click. Click._

Hermione, bored, had ventured downstairs in spite of herself, and was absent-mindedly playing with something to ease her boredom until the others awoke.

_Click. Click. Click._

Mrs. Weasley came downstairs and, acknowledging Hermione with a nod of her head, too tired to actually speak, she began making breakfast.

_Click. Click. Click._

The scrumptious smells of pancakes, sausage, bacon, and other breakfast scents wafted up the crooked stairs into the room of one Arthur Weasley. They filled his nostrils with smells almost nobody but the husband of Martha Stuart would ever hope to experience in their lifetime. This woke him up, but he knew that if he went down too early, Molly would not only be more focused on her cooking than himself, but would also probably hit him with her wooden spoon if he tried tasting anything again. And he normally couldn't resist himself. There was a permanent bruise on his hand where she repeatedly smacked him. So instead, he just rolled over to try and sleep some more.

_Click. Click. Click._

He stopped moving. He heard something.

_Click. Click. Click._

There it was again. It was coming from downstairs. It sounded odd, yet familiar at the same time. Something at the back of his mind was nagging him, taunting him with the knowledge he wished to remember. He had to investigate.

_Click. Click. Click._

Hermione looked up to see Mr. Weasley standing in the doorway in a bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, looking around, seeming to be deep in thought. She decided to ignore this, thinking he was just smelling the food Mrs. Weasley was cooking behind her and went back to fiddling with the object in her hands.

_Click. Click. Click._

"What is that entrancing sound?" Mr. Weasley asked to nobody in particular. Hermione looked back down at the plastic in her hands.

"Sorry Mr. Weasley, I was bored so I was playing with this." she held up a black Retractable Sharpie. Mr. Weasley looked at it in questionable silence before it registered in his brain what it really was.

"Hermione… is that…" he didn't even finish his question. Instead, he strode across the room and took the Sharpie out of Hermione's hands and held it up to his face.

"I can't believe it. I am in the presence of one of Muggle-kind's greatest inventions ever! The _clicky-pen_!" Hermione just stared at him in his fascination, a look of mild disturbance on her face. She wouldn't have been surprised though if the pen had started floating with golden light shining out in all directions with the operatic angel voices singing the Hallelujah song.

"Um, actually it's a Sharpie. A permanent marker." Hermione explained. Mr. Weasley looked at her.

"What is a permanent marker?" he asked.

"It's a marker that when you write on something, it most usually doesn't come off unless it wears off by itself." she said. His eyes became that of even more fascination.

"How marvelous! A marker that never comes off! This could be next in Wizard history!" he exclaimed. Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes at him, though neither of the two could see because she wasn't facing them.

"And see here, if you push this in, the tip pops out." Hermione demonstrated on the marker for Mr. Weasley, and the tip came peeking out the end. Overjoyed at this concept, Mr. Weasley gleefully pushed the end again to send the tip back inside its plastic casing. Hermione sat back and watched as he clicked the pen more and more vigorously, like a little kid at Christmas.

_ClickClickClickClickClick!_

"Would you kindly take that to the sitting room, dear? It's giving me a headache." stated Mrs. Weasley in a way that suggested clicking the pen would be the last thing he would ever do if he didn't comply. Without another glance over his shoulder, his eyes stayed glues to the Sharpie. Hermione decided that Mr. Weasley was an adult and therefore did not need her Muggle Expertise supervision.

And for once, she was wrong.

Mr. Weasley sat himself down in he easy chair, mind still transfixed on the clickable permanent marker in his hands. It was magnificent, yet clever how small the muggles had managed to make it. He was thinking about trying to dissect it. But for now, he would learn how it worked by observing it.

He held it sideways and put where the tip would come out close to his face, so he could observe its actions. He clicked it out again, and watched as the tip popped out. Suddenly, he was overcome by a smell. Nothing his wife was cooking could ever smell like this. It had an odd scent, oddly stinging in his nose. It was nothing in this household he knew of, that was certain. His only option was this marker. He took another deep breath and smelled it again. He began feeling light-headed, but that was from him waking up much earlier than usual, wasn't it?

xXxXx

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the Twins plodded sleepily down the stairs, being led only by the fact that they were starving and the food smelled so delicious. But they stopped on the stairs very suddenly as a blast of crimson magic hit the stairs at their feet. They looked up, and saw Mr. Weasley standing there with wand in hand and eyes half closed, like he was half asleep.

"Stand back, kids. There's little yellow creatures crawling around by you. I don't want to hit you." he said. But the way he said it made the kids cock their heads. A little dizzy, a little sleepy, a little crazed.

"I think Dad's finally gone off the deep end this time." whispered Fred to George behind his hand. George nodded solemnly. Ron ignored the fact that his father was not his usual self and finished down the stairs.

"Dad, are you okay? There are no little yellow things. I think maybe you had better lie down some-" he was cut off by Mr. Weasley pointing his wand at him. Harry saw his arm was wobbling. Mr. Weasley himself was off-kilter too.

"Ron, don't move." he said seriously. "One of those things are on your shoulder. If I aim just right, I can hit it. Just hold still…" Ginny was giggling madly, but luckily, Mr. Weasley didn't notice. Harry, on the other hand, spotted the Sharpie on the ground at Mr. Weasley's feet and rolled his eyes. He knew what was going on. Ignoring the fact that MR. Weasley was about to blow Ron to pieces and he could do the same to him at any moment, he trudged over and picked up the marker.

"Mr. Weasley, were you playing with this?" he asked seriously. The other kids looked at him incredulously, because nobody but the twins would dare do such a thing, and they weren't volunteering.

"Oh! The clicky-pen! That's what I've been looking for!" he said, dropping his wand to the floor and snatching the marker out of Harry's hand to replace his wand. He then crookedly charged at the spot hovering right over Ron's right shoulder. Ron yelled in terror and ducked off to the side quick enough to doge the Sharpie marker, poised like a dagger in the spot where his head had been only seconds before. Ginny, Fred, and George were in giggled hysterics, trying to stay out of their father's line of vision so they wouldn't end up like Ron, cowering on the floor.

"I think I'd better take this." Harry said, snatching the Sharpie out of Mr. Weasley's grasp. Mr. Weasley looked about to cry. The other kids, Ron including, snuck silently to the kitchen.

"I'll give it back to you later, okay?" Harry said, placing the marker in his pajama pocket. Mr. Weasley nodded sadly in defeat.

"And I think you'd better stay here for a while." Harry said, pushing him off to a large closet the family never used and locked him in. Mr. Weasley didn't notice a thing, only that there were more of the yellow things in here and he must get them all. Harry picked up the wand laying on the floor and traveled to the kitchen, where the others were telling Hermione and Mrs. Weasley about how Mr. Weasley was acting.

"Harry! You survived!" said George cheerfully, pulling out a chair.

"Mom, extra eggs for the triumphant hero!" exclaimed Fred.

"Hermione, would this, by any chance, happen to be yours?" Harry asked, holding up the Sharpie with a smirk on his face. Hers turned to a look of pure horror.

"Oh my gosh! Is that why Mr. Weasley was…?" Harry nodded. Hermione moaned and threw her head into her arms on the table while the others howled with laughter. Even Mrs. Weasley.

Plugs: 7 Sickles.

Flying Cars and damage caused: 100 Galleons.

Retractable Sharpie Ten-Pack: 5 knuts.

Seeing your best mate's dad attack him with the Sharpie while high off it: Priceless.

Some things money cant buy. For everything else, there's Gringott's Bank.

**A/N: Oh wow. Random idea my best friend and I came up with. I had to write it, and here it is, because we all know Mr. Weasley's attraction with muggle objects and artifacts. Hope you liked it reviews are loved. **


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